Ciel Viano

Description:

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Bio:

Ciel Viano was of no particularly remarkable birth. The stars did not align to mark his way, the churches did not proclaim him the chosen one, no ultimate destiny opened its way to him. Born the bastard child of a low ranking noble he grew up in relative wealth and comfort, though he often felt outcast from his true born brothers.
He did not look like his father, a burly man with dirty blond locks who could raise a tavern in cheer on the worst of days. No, Ciel took after his illegitimate mother. Dark, shaggy hair and a thin pale frame, Ciel was a quiet boy, often picked on by those around him for lacking his families features, and for his dishonest birth.

In his early years of school it was discovered that the boy had a way with numbers like no other. While the other children struggled with addition, Ciel performed advances equations. While his brothers practiced with blade and hex-rifle, Ciel stayed in his quarters studying the techmaturgy his home city was well known for.

As he moved into his teen years, when brothers were sent off to various military academies or groomed for their future political roles, Ciel was sent to a mechanics academy. The boy was a prodigy no doubt, but he grew bored with his life. Taking bits of his fathers gold here and there he began sneaking off at night, into the dark underground of the city. Found in shady gambling parlors, or lecherous taverns the cards thrilled the boy like nothing else. He began to build a reputation for himself.

Sure he made a bad deal here and there, but in the end Ciel always seemed to walk away the winner. Blessed with unnatural luck, some loved him, others began to hate him. The boy always had to watch his back, keeping an eye out for those unfortunate enough to be the victim of a bad draw… until the night that Ciel met Him.

The night wasn’t anything unusual, having just sat down at the table for the first game of the night the man across from him was an ordinary, though quiet and darkly cloaked middle aged fellow. They played a few hands as normal, money passing back and forth, until the man finally opened his mouth to speak. A strange hush fell over the gambling hall, the bards music seemed to sink away into the background, the whores seemed to continue their rounds as if the boy and the man didn’t even exist. His words seemed to echo slightly in the unnatural silence." You’ve gotten a reputation for yourself boy, whaddaya say we raise the stakes a little?" The man placed a few objects on the table. A key, a small box that made a metallic clink as it struck the wood, and a revolver, not dissimilar to the hex-guns used by the armed forces but much simpler in nature consisting of a revolving chamber and a simple hammer mechanism with some strange markings on its striking point. “If you win, I will give you these items, and a power like none in this city possess… but if you lose, you owe me your life.” The boy laughed slightly, thinking it a joke but thrilled by the prospect of gambling with his own life he readily accepted. “Fine he said, I’ll play your little game.”

As they played time seemed to stretch out an become meaningless. How many hands had they played? How much time had passed? Seconds? Minutes? Centuries? The boy no longer knew. Playing the winning hand he looked up, smiling at the man across the table. The man smiled back. Suddenly the boy woke up in bed.

Years passed, and the cards no longer thrilled the young man. Life had once again become boring. As he got out of bed and carried out his morning preparation he cut himself with the razor while shaving. His blood dripped into the basin, and as it did it burned with purple fire, looking up into the mirror his left eye had turned an other worldly violet. In a panic he ran out into his bed chamber and sitting before him were some oddly familiar items, as if found in a dream.
A Simple Revolver
A Box of Shells
A Large Chest with a Key resting on top of it containing a strange sentient construct.
and a Note…
I hope you still have your luck boy, I promised you power, and your going to need it.

Gambling now with his own life, the man works as a watchdog in the underground for the local law enforcement, having built up a reputation with his unusual gun skills.

Ciel Viano

Trial of the Under God Lemonchop